Qingteng's Mind - Middle School Era

Chapter 1400 Encounter
It was exactly 2:30 p.m.

The bus, like a weary blue whale, panted heavily as it pulled into the station. The doors opened with a "whoosh," then closed again, and before the person it was waiting for arrived, it slowly drove away.

Ke Mengnan stood still, her gaze following the car until it disappeared around the street corner.

"Are we getting on the bus or not?" Lin Xiaoyao's voice trembled with despair. "If we wait any longer, I'll really get dizzy from hunger! Big brother, don't you know I'm still growing?"

Ke Mengnan didn't speak. His gaze remained fixed on the end of the road to the west, as if if he looked a little longer, that familiar figure would appear around the corner.

What if she's on the next train?

What if she was only ten minutes late?
just in case……

"Anyone else getting on? The bus is leaving!" The ticket seller's voice squeezed out from the closing doors.

Lin Xiaoyao grabbed Ke Mengnan's arm: "What are you waiting for? We've been standing in the wind for over an hour! Are you punishing yourself? You didn't do badly on your midterm exams."

This touched on a sensitive point.

The midterm exam results are out. Ke Mengnan and Zheng Yifan have the exact same total score, tying for first place.

When Teacher Song announced the results on the podium, her eyes behind her glasses widened, and she made no attempt to hide her shock.

The whole class erupted in uproar.

Lin Xiaoyao chuckled to herself from below the stage; these two must have made prior arrangements.

Given Ke Mengnan's personality, how could she not get full marks in physics and chemistry? This time, she deliberately lost a few points in both; it would be strange if it wasn't intentional.

Amidst the shocked gazes of everyone, Ke Mengnan and Zheng Yifan tacitly lowered their heads, pretending to be engrossed in their books, which earned them another round of praise from Teacher Song, who remarked, "Look how composed they are."

But those scores, those rankings, felt as light as a feather to Ke Mengnan at that moment. All he wanted to do now was wait for one person, someone who might never come.

"The next one," he finally spoke, his voice a little hoarse, "the next bus will definitely leave."

Lin Xiaoyao let out a wail and resignedly squatted down on the stone steps beside the platform.

At 2:50, the bus arrived as scheduled.

Ke Mengnan craned her neck, her gaze sweeping over the crowd getting off the bus and over the blurry faces in the car window—but she wasn't there.

That figure who always smiled quietly was no longer there.

The last hope burst like a soap bubble.

Before Lin Xiaoyao could speak, Ke Mengnan had already taken a step towards the open car door. Her movements were swift and resolute, as if she would regret it if she were any slower.

Lin Xiaoyao was taken aback, then quickly grabbed her schoolbag and followed.

The carriage wasn't crowded, but all the seats were occupied.

The two held onto the handrail, swaying slightly as the car started moving. After Lin Xiaoyao steadied herself, she glanced back casually and suddenly nudged Ke Mengnan's arm.

“Look behind,” he said in a low voice, “aren’t those people in Yunling Middle School uniforms?”

Ke Mengnan immediately turned her head.

It is indeed the blue and white school uniform of Yunling Middle School.

Three or four girls sat together, with varying hair lengths and heights—all unfamiliar faces.

Not her.

He turned back and looked out the window again.

The street scene flowed before my eyes—shops, pedestrians, roadside trees—everything was frustratingly familiar.

"Hey, there are a few people watching you." Lin Xiaoyao leaned closer, her voice tinged with amusement. "I wonder if, like last time, someone will pass you a note again?"

Ke Mengnan glanced at him but didn't say anything.

Passing a note.

These three words are like a key, clicking open a neglected corner.

The unfamiliar name on the envelope... could it be the girl who passed me the note last time? Or perhaps the person who wrote the letter isn't "her" at all?
This thought was like a bucket of cold water poured over his head, completely extinguishing any remaining hope he had.

The feelings that were originally mixed with joy, confusion and resentment were now mixed with a chill of disappointment.

He recalled all the times they had met—that fleeting glance outside the physics competition venue, her slight smile when they bumped into each other on the bus, and how she accidentally knocked his book down in the park. And then there was her avoidance of him when they had arranged to ride the bus together.

Yes, she's never been a very proactive person.

How could he forget?
If she really wrote the letter, she should have told him about it during the physics competition, right? If it really was her, she should...

"What are you daydreaming about?" Lin Xiaoyao poked him again. "What are you thinking about? Didn't you hear me making such a loud noise?"

"what?"

"Those girls behind me are talking about how the top scorer in their school's midterm exams was a girl, more than thirty points ahead of the second-place student," Lin Xiaoyao repeated. "'In all these years, no girl has ever gotten first place in our school.'" Ke Mengnan was slightly taken aback.

She... got first place?

This realization stirred something within him.

Wow, she's really amazing.

"Hey, I'm talking to you." Lin Xiaoyao started to say something, but then realized that Ke Mengnan's attention had wandered away again.

In the back of the carriage, the girls' chatter continued.

"Isn't your class the top class? Why isn't the top student from your class?"

"Exactly, Anran, why isn't the top student in your class the top student in the whole school?"

The girl called Anran turned her head—she was sitting by the window, the sunlight casting a soft golden glow on her profile.

Ke Mengnan then saw her clearly: shoulder-length short hair, bangs tucked behind her ears, large eyes that were slightly lowered at the moment.

“It’s true that our class is an elite class,” An Ran’s voice was soft but clear, “but who says that the top student in an elite class is necessarily the top student in the whole school? If you want to know, you should ask He Shiling. How would I know if you ask me?”

His tone carried a clear, suppressed displeasure.

She certainly had reason to be unhappy.

A while ago, at the end of February, because of He Shiling, she was severely reprimanded by Yi Lingfei. Since then, Yi Lingfei has never given her a kind look in the classroom.

No, he didn't even glance at her.

She pursed her lips, still harboring a sense of superiority: after all, she was in the top class, while He Shiling was in a regular class. Academically, she still had a psychological advantage.

Unexpectedly, He Shiling ranked first in the entire school in the midterm exam, scoring 30 points higher than Yi Lingfei and 150 points more than her.

She ranked ninety-first this time—which is actually her normal level, even a little better than usual. She usually hovers between one hundred and one hundred and twenty, but somehow she inexplicably entered the top fifty in the last winter break exam, ranking forty-ninth in her class.

“Let’s just chat,” the girl in the middle said, trying to smooth things over. “If you’re not happy, then we’ll stop talking and talk about something else.”

An Ran didn't reply, turning her head to look out the window. Her gaze suddenly stopped as she swept across the front of the carriage.

Standing three seats in front of her was the person she had wanted to see and had finally seen again.

My heart skipped a beat for a moment.

Is this what they call fate? I saw him when I returned to school in mid-February, didn't see him at the end of February, saw him at the end of March, and now—I've actually seen him again.

An Ran clenched her fists instinctively, her nails digging into her palms.

Her heart leaped into her throat as that familiar figure, that person... looked right in her direction.

He saw her. Just like that time in mid-February.

She raised her hand and carefully tucked her bangs behind her ear, the movement so gentle it was almost deliberate. Then she lowered her eyes slightly, her cheeks flushing uncontrollably.

After pausing for a few seconds, she raised her head again and mustered the courage to look at the person.

Eyes facing each other.

Time, space, and even the noisy voices and swaying of the carriage all seemed to freeze in that instant.

Then Ke Mengnan shifted her gaze and looked out the window again.

He had just heard it—they were talking about He Shiling, that was "her" name.

He knew she was a good student, but he didn't expect her to be this good.

"This girl's grades are pretty good," Lin Xiaoyao's voice rang in my ears, tinged with teasing, "just like yours."

Ke Mengnan's cheeks felt slightly hot.

Is she like him?
An Ran pursed her lips excitedly, lowered her head, and couldn't hide the smile in her eyes. Was he blushing because he saw her looking at him?
So, he had been paying attention to me all along.

"Anran, why is your face red?" The girl in the middle leaned over, her voice tinged with laughter.

An Ran gave her a reproachful look, then lowered her head again without saying a word. But she couldn't suppress the smile on her lips.

“That guy is so handsome,” the girl in the middle whispered in her ear, her breath warm against her earlobe. “He’s even more handsome than Zheng Yifan. Did he notice you looking at him? Look, look, his ears are all red.”

"Don't talk nonsense," An Ran said softly, but her gaze couldn't help but drift forward again.

The boy, standing tall and looking out the window, had clean and sharp features in profile, and his eyelashes cast soft shadows in the sunlight.

She stared at it, her gaze lingering on it for a long time.

The bus continued its journey, passing through streets shaded by sycamore trees and bathed in the gentle sunlight of late April.

Outside the car window, spring was making its final bow. The crabapple blossoms were almost gone, the new leaves of the camphor trees were a vibrant green, and the wind carried the gentle, intoxicating warmth of early summer.